Savage Awakening 537. Man vs. Dragon (VIII)

“He’s alive,” said Jake. “It’s not over, but… hells.”

“It might as well be,” said Mox grimly.

They watched Zane laid out there—that mighty heart still beating, caught loud and clear in the scrying, but they could hear it struggling. Zane’s regeneration came from the heart. It was the font of his Vitality, and there was just too much to heal.

Everywhere they looked, they found blackened, broken flesh, bone, and muscle. All laced with a dirty gold that smoldered like dying coals.

Zane managed to build up to an arm, shaking his head. He spat out ash and a great deal of blood with it. He stumbled up to a leg, frowning, but he was having trouble finding his balance.

“He’s lost too much blood. He looks woozy… He bet it all on keeping that beast chained. And he lost that bet.” Jake shook his head. “The audacity of it… Aiming to take the peak of peak Godbeasts from full health to nothing, in a single blow!”

“Nearly did it, too,” said Mox. “But nearly’s not good enough.”

“Maybe he just didn’t know what he was up against.”

“True. In that golden dragonform, Haxorax might’ve been able to stand up to T1s.”

“I’ve been around this game nearly 400,000 years,” said Jake. “…I’ve never seen a fledgling Empyrean like that. And to think Zane tried taking him down while handicapping himself…”

“He played around too much. It’s a damn shame.”

“That’s easy to say sitting here. But for a moment there, he had us all believing, didn’t he?”

“That’s true enough.”

They watched as Haxorax glared down at his prey.

Zane must’ve been in excruciating pain. They’d never seen the big man look shabbier.

“I don’t know how he’s even still conscious.”

“Is there one more hurrah in him?” said Jake. “One last stand, if he goes all out again?”

“Even if he fought the dragonform at full health, with all the Destruction he’d shown before, he’d still have it tough,” growled Mox. “This fight is over.”

***

Haxorax rounded on Zane. A blurry light rose through that great neck like a sun rising through dawn mists. Strengthening as it rose. 

Zane had just gotten up from one knee. Barely, but he’d done it, on legs just mended enough to stand. That didn’t mean the bones weren’t shattered; they were, and badly.

It wasn’t just his legs. That was the state of his entire body.

Warning!

Critical Health

It was the most broken he’d been since the Slayer. If his reaction times were just a little worse, if he didn’t manage to protect his vitals last second… that might’ve been it for him.

His mind wasn’t really on that, though. 

He was still thinking about his gravity breaking loose. If he’d just held it a little longer there… but that was fighting for you. 

He had to admit, he wasn’t used to feeling like this. 

Though if he stepped back and honestly reassessed, he had to admit the whole endeavor was always a bit of a longshot.

It was just that he’d come so close to pulling it off he could taste it. Maybe there was some wounded pride there. He’d kept fighting all the way through that final blast. He didn’t want to admit it.

In the end, though, he’d had to dip into his Destruction reserves to protect his vitals.

He didn’t like it, but he had to be brutally honest. He’d lost the challenge he’d set for himself fair and square.

He got what he’d come for, at least. Chainstorm Cage was his. Couldn’t be too miffed about how things ended up, he supposed.

He tried finding Reina in the distance so he could give her a wave. Let her know he was doing okay. But he couldn’t make her out. Everything was quite bleary, blurry…

His body was taking a while to heal.

He inspected his wounds again… that golden smoldering. It struck deep into the wound, and each smolder dealt more damage. Even his Destruction was taking a little while to wipe it away.

Reina had briefed him on this effect, he recalled. ‘The Dragon’s Wrath.’ One of a host of legendary powers the golden dragonform was rumored to have, though it’d been hard to tell which were real before the fight. It felt a little like Corruption with how it blunted his healing factor. At this rate, he was only getting back 1, maybe 2% health a second.

…That wasn’t nearly enough to even move on.

He just watched as an immensity of dragonflame loaded up in Haxorax’s throat.

***

The crowds, mostly humankind, had gone quiet.

“Seems most folks are catching on,” said Jake gravely. “Zane’s regeneration isn’t bailing him out this time.”

“Haxorax knows it too. That’s why he’s taking his sweet time with it,” said Mox. “This one’s to end it all. Make no mistake on that.”

A cheer rose up on the Steelheart float, but they’d cheer their champ no matter what. It was a cheer of defiant hope. 

Reina looked like she could hardly bear to watch any more of this; one of her attendants looked crestfallen.

Thalia shook her head.

Evan and Avery were still cheering—Evan was the most hopeful Zane fan left, by the looks of it. 

…Except for the Barbarian Sage, who was on his feet, still hollering. “You %# that !*#5d-‘d worm up! Just a flesh wound, lad—you brush it off and go right back at ‘em!”

Not all curse words were banned on the broadcast, but the broadcasters did take the liberty to bleepmcertain stronger expressions.

***

In the time it took Haxorax to load that flame, Zane was deep in thought.

He was reconsidering the situation.

Yeah.

Now that he played the facts over again, he changed his mind.

He was being too hard on himself. He let that initial sting get to him a bit. 

He decided he was pleased with how he’d done after all. 

He had to give credit to Haxorax too. Breaking out of that chainstorm took some hefty strength, essence, Laws, Bloodline… everything, really. Once Zane had sunk that Prometheus Noose deep, he’d honestly thought that was it.

It was true he’d lost because he’d made a mistake. But those thrashes had forced it out of him, in a way—made the chain harder to hold.

This fellow was a worthy opponent, he decided.

It was a bit of a pity he was so out of it. Zane would’ve liked to fight a full-strength version of him.

He watched as Haxorax’s dragonflame rose and rose…

He really ought to do something about that soon.

“Zane Walker!”

He frowned up.

A booth hovered in the distance far over Haxorax’s head. The voice had come from there. A deep, growly, booming voice.

He locked eyes with the Azure Flame Patriarch.

He blinked. He’d thought those booths were soundproofed. The Patriarch must’ve gotten around it somehow; his voice sounded unnaturally echo-y, like he had some kind of charm on it.

“A valiant enough effort,” said the Patriarch. There were too many teeth in that smile, Zane thought.

Haxorax growled when he heard the Patriarch’s voice; he spasmed and froze, a vicious red lightning playing over his skull.

“You’ve given it all you’ve got,” said the Patriarch. “You put on a show, a stronger showing than anyone expected of you! But now the game has come to an end. You’ve got a bright future. There is no denying that you are the greatest of your race… and yet, on this day, you’ve proven yourself the lesser man. There is no shame in that! The duel is to submission or death. So I offer you a way out, this once.”

He held out a hand. “Kneel, boy. Kneel, and Haxorax may yet show you grace.”

“…”

“You must be counting on your shards of Destruction.” The Patriarch’s eyes gleamed. “Do you think they’ll stop the flame of a golden dragonform? But you’re down near critical. Not even eleven of those little shards can save you now!”

He blinked. That was how much destruction he’d wielded earlier.

“Yes,” said the Patriarch. “I know what you’ve got. Don’t look so stunned. There are greater forces at work in this Galaxy than a handful of shards… you’ll see them soon enough! There comes a time in every man’s life when he learns to kneel. All men must kneel. The most talented, the most capable, may delay that day. But only one creature can sit atop that great food chain. One king, and a universe of slaves… Make your choice, boy.”

“…Are you done?” said Zane.

Silence.

The Patriarch’s teeth ground even as he grinned.

“That,” he growled, “Is a very poor choice of last words.”

Every time the Patriarch opened his mouth, his son took psychic damage. It was making it hard for Haxorax to consistently charge a blast.

It would’ve given Zane the chance to recover a bit if he wasn’t still being affected by Dragon’s Wrath. As it was, he was still in pretty rough shape. He still couldn’t do much more than slash.

“You’re not very interesting,” Zane informed the Patriarch.

He’d figured, from what Noughtfire had told him, that this Lyxandor might try to bully him. He hadn’t expected the fellow to be so long-winded about it, though.

“You look pretty small from this distance,” he added.

“You would make your woman watch, then,” said the Patriarch. “As she’s made a widow!” 

A split-screen showed Reina above him, who looked incensed that her name had been put in his mouth.

It was the first thing the Patriarch said that got any kind of reaction out of Zane. Just a spike of anger in his chest.

All he said, though, was—“You really want to make me kneel.” His eyes took on a hard look. “Why don’t you try it?”

A flicker of an expression crossed the Patriarch’s face. For just a split-second they all saw the fury beneath. “So be it.”

Haxorax shook his head violently. That red lightning was leaving him.

When he turned his gaze to Zane again, he was even more enraged.

Before he went for it, though, Zane decided he’d get a few words in. He hadn’t planned on it, but the Patriarch had succeeded in pissing him off.

“You’re right,” he told the Patriarch. “I did use eleven shards when I fought your son back there. I dropped it to six for the rest of the fight as a challenge. Here’s the thing, though.” 

He brought out his axes.

“Eleven was just how much I used as a test run,” said Zane. “That wasn’t all I had.”

The Patriarch’s expression froze.

After he saw what eleven had done, he just hadn’t bothered to go any higher. He figured he’d seen all he needed.

“I was holding back that entire time,” Zane clarified for him.

“…Lies.” 

Haxorax cringed again at the sound, but by now the fire was at the throat; there was no stopping it. He bore down, jaw unhinging, and unloaded a fight-ender of a dragon’s breath.

“Lies!” roared the Patriarch. 

Then for the first time that fight, Zane unleashed his full strength.